Uncanny Alliances
by a-whisper-to-a-riot
Summary: When a young breton noble runaway arrives in Whiterun, she decides to take shelter with the Companions. Vilkas/OC - NOT F!DRAGONBORN


**The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim**

_**Uncanny Alliances**_

_**Chapter One: The Lady of Evermore**_

* * *

Camila laid awake in her new bed, the snoring coming from the other 'whelps' didn't make it any easier for her attempts in falling asleep. The bed across from hers belonged to Torvar, he had invited her out earlier for friendly drinks, but Camila had declined politely. Only just an hour ago did he return drunk out of his mind, he had managed to find his way to the shared bedroom after much trashing about in the corridor. If the noise hadn't woken her up, then Torvar mistaking her bed for his would have. After stumbling in he had fallen into Camila in her bed. Though she knew it hadn't been intentional, Camila had shoved him off her bed nonetheless and had left him there, having not realized that she would regret it later on.

So now, she was in the awkward predicament of trying to fall asleep, with one of her roommates lying flat on the ground next to her bed, and feeling incredibly guilty for causing it. Instead of trying to fall asleep and worrying over Tovar, Camila thought over the day's events. After arriving in Whiterun and had sent her armor to the smiths to be repaired, Camila had realized she didn't have a place to stay.

Remembering her encounter with The Companions, she quickly made her way to Jorrvaskr. Upon requesting to join, a man named Vilkas had opposed her initiation. Though after the short duel he seemed to have changed his mind, it didn't seem to have made a large impact since Camila had spent the day as an errand-girl. Camila knew it couldn't be helped – she did just get her and trust takes time. But the least they could do was give her a nicer room, even though Camila was the newest Companion she was a lot more skilled than her fellow 'whelps'. A frown etched on her face as she remembered the size of Aela's room, but she knew it was no use being upset over it now.

* * *

The next morning, Camila woke up surprisingly earlier than her roommates, but failing to remember where Torvar laid. Camila tripped over the sleeping man after climbing out of bed, resulting in Torvar yelling, thus waking the whole room up. She received a fair amount of dirty looks, as she made her way out of the room. Not that she could care less, right now the only thing she had on her mind was breakfast.

Some of the senior members of the Circle were already sat upstairs eating their meal, this including Kodlak and Vilkas. The Harbringer sent her a warm smile from his table at the front of the room. Vilkas however, shot her a wary look and looked back down at his plate wordlessly. Camila took a deep breath and walked over to the table, she sat herself next to Vilkas and helped herself to some bread.

"How did you sleep last night?" Kodlak asked as he picked his goblet up.

"Could've been worse," Camila shrugged with a smile.

"I heard Torvar coming in late," Kodlak recalled. "I hope he didn't wake you?"

"No sir," Camila nodded. "I was still awake when he came in, but he did manage to trip and fall into my bed."

"Did he?" Kodlak boomed with laughter. "Sorry my dear, I'll speak with him about it."

"Thank you, sir," Camila smiled back.

She returned her attention to her plate and began to butter her bread. Now that the room was once again silent, she realized Vilkas who was sat next to her, has not spoke a word since she walked in. Camila desperately wanted to say something to ease the tension between them. What was his problem anyway? First he spoke against her joining, and then he quite literally tried to tear her apart during their duel, and now he's just ignoring her.

"So where are you from Camila?" Kodlak spoke again. "You are Breton correct?"

"Yes, I'm from the house of Hearthfield in Evermore, High Rock," Camila replied.

"Please correct me if I am wrong, but isn't the house of Hearthfield the noble house of Evermore?" Kodlak watched intently.

"Yes sir," Camila dipped her head nervously.

"Forgive me my lady, I should have realized sooner," Kodlak bowed his head down considerably. "Vilkas, my boy! Apologize to Lady Camila!"

Camila's eyes widened as she turned to Vilkas, he stared back at her nonchalantly. As his mouth opened to speak, she stopped him.

"No! Please! It's not a problem!" Camila exclaimed. "I'm not in High Rock anymore! I'm just another Breton in Skyrim now. And please, just call me by my first name."

"But my La-, Camila, what are you doing all the way in Whiterun?" Kodlak inquired.

"Uh-, well… I was to be wed to the lord of Wayrest… but… how should I put it?" Camila thought for a moment. "He's a pig."

Vilkas choked on his bread, he coughed loudly as he reached for his tankard. Camila gaped at him briefly before turning back to Kodlak.

"I-I'm sorry, that wasn't very appropriate," Camila corrected herself, she knew better than to badmouth Lord Marquardt… even all the way in Skyrim. "It's just that he's rather stuck-up and rude, especially to the servants and lower-classed villagers. It didn't take long for me to realize that I don't nor will I ever love the man, so I ran."

"I see, that's quite a story but I'm glad you made it all this way to Skyrim unharmed," Kodlak reassured her with a smile. "I heard from Vilkas that you are quite skilled with a blade?"

'_From Vilkas?' _

"Yes sir, but I'm more adept in the arts of magicka," Camila informed. "After all, I am Breton and am naturally talented with magic."

"Why did you choose to stay in Whiterun when you could go to the mages' college in Winterhold?" Kodlak was genuinely interested.

"Well, that's simple," Camila smiled embarrassedly. "I don't like the cold."

Kodlak's eyebrows rose and once again the room echoed his thunderous laughter. He had half expected her to say something along the lines of 'her family would look there first' or 'she's already skilled enough', but this; it certainly came to him as a surprise. Kodlak nodded back with an approving grin as he stood from his seat.

"Excuse me, but I have some errands to run," Kodlak told the two. "Vilkas, spend the morning showing Camila around Whiterun and Jorrvaskr. And I don't mean sending her on errands the whole day."

"Yes, Kodlak," Vilkas finally spoke.

"Good day, you two."

With that, Kodlak left the two of them behind. Vilkas acted as if Kodlak hadn't said a thing and carried on finishing his breakfast. Camila didn't know if she should say something or just leave him as she was done with her meal. Just as he finished his breakfast off, Camila stood up to wash her plates.

"Tilma takes care of the washing up," Vilkas called after her.

He actually spoke to her. She did not expect that.

"Oh… so could I just leave it on the table?" Camila asked as she sat back down.

"Yes," Vilkas nodded once and placed his cutlery down. "Let's go, I'll show you around the city."

"Okay," she stood up. "… So Vilkas, are you from Whiterun?"

"Yes, my brother and I grew up with the Companions," he inclined.

"Did you always want to fight with the Companions?" she followed him out the doors.

"I've had my doubts over it," Vilkas admitted. "But Kodlak's always said that my brother's got the strength of Ysgramor, and I, his brains. Plus it seems only fitting that we stay after being left here."

There's a story behind that last sentence, it was obvious, but Camila didn't wish to intrude into his personal life any further so she remained silent and nodded. Vilkas walked ahead and occasionally stopped to explain the importance of certain buildings. Camila listened to his explanations attentively tried her best to remember where all the main shops were.

"And lastly next to the front gates is Warmaiden's," Vilkas concluded.

"This is a nice town," Camila watched the villagers going on about their daily business. "Everyone seems so friendly."

"Was it different in Evermore?" Vilkas asked as they made their way back to Jorrvaskr.

"No, not really. Evermore rarely got caught up with the High Rock politics so the town was peaceful most of the time," Camila shook her head. "But in places like Wayrest or Daggerfall, there was always a very noticeable difference between the classes. And many of the nobles, like my fiancé, were exceptionally rude to the working class… and most of the time it's just because they can."

"I'm glad you didn't marry him then," Vilkas nodded.

"Me too," she smiled back. "You know you don't have to babysit me right? I'm fine by myself."

"Who says I'm not enjoying it?" Vilkas replied.

'_Did he just?' _Camila paused and stared at him.

"I'm sorry that was inappropriate," he apologized and looked away quickly.

"No! No, it's not that," Camila shook her head. "It's just… I just thought you didn't like me very much."

"Did I give off such an impression?" Vilkas asked. "I'm sorry, Farkas always told me that I'm cold with people… especially strangers."

"Oh… well I'm glad I don't bother you," she grinned.

Knowing this put her mind at ease. The last thing she wanted were enemies out here, running away from High Rock has already earned her a few notable enemies, more specifically Lord Marquardt and his family… and perhaps even her own. By the way her mother had been pushing the wedding dates, you'd think that she just wanted Camila sent off.

An ill thought suddenly came to her mind. What if one of her sisters was sent off to Lord Marquardt instead? Not very likely but still a possibility. The idea of Regan or Lillie being forced into a wedding made her feel slightly guilty for leaving.

'_No… they're fine. No one's marrying that pig of a lord.'_

Right… it was just a thought, and nothing more. Regan and Lillie aren't old enough to be wed yet either, they still have a few years to go. Not to mention Faric wouldn't allow it, not after Camila left. Plus Lord Marquardt only had eyes for Camila; he'd be more likely to come after her than settle for one of the younger girls.

"Are you alright?"

"Pardon?" Camila snapped her attention back to the Nord.

"No, it's just you're being rather quiet," Vilkas noted.

"I'm sorry… I was just thinking about my sisters," Camila replied with a smile. "I didn't say goodbye to them when I left. I wonder how they are."

"Are you the eldest?" Vilkas asked.

"No," Camila shook her head. "I had two older brothers, Faric and Astien."

"Had?"

"Astien was killed around two years ago," Camila explained.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Vilkas frowned.

"No, please, there's no need," Camila smiled briefly. "I didn't know him well, he was quite a bit older than me."

"Are your ages all very varied?" Vilkas queried.

"More or less," Camila nodded. "I think the closest gap we have is Faric and I, we're a year apart. And the largest was Astien and Lillie, they were around twenty years apart."

"Wow…" Vilkas gave a low whistle. "That's insane. And there are five of you?"

"Six soon, I think," Camila chuckled slightly. "My mother was with a child when I left."

"How old is your mother?" Vilkas asked, startled by her reply.

"Late forties?" Camila shrugged. "I'm not sure. She didn't like talking about her age. Made her feel old, she said. What about your family? Just Farkas and you?"

"Yes," he replied.

"Parents?"

"Never knew them."

Well that was blunt. Vilkas seemed to have shut down at the mention of his parents. Maybe it's best if she shut her mouth for now.

"I'm sorry," she tried. "I didn't know it was a sensitive topic… I wouldn't have said anything if I knew."

"No it's not that," he replied. "It's just that I don't really know much about them either."

"Oh, I see," Camila nodded. "That's a shame."

"Yes, but anyway," Vilkas stopping walking. "That's the city, is there anywhere you'd like me to show you?"

"No," she shook her head, realizing that they'd stopped just below the steps to Jorrvaskr. "You did a fair job of showing me around. Thank you."

"You are welcome."

"I have to go retrieve my armor from the smiths," Camila nodded. "I won't trouble you further."

The two exchanged goodbyes and Camila went off back to Warmaiden's. Ulfberth greeted her politely and went to the back room. The man returned with Camila's leather armor.

"Thank you," Camila reached for her purse.

"This is a very nice set," Ulfberth commented. "Custom crafted?"

"Yes," she replied with a smile. "My brother made it for me."

"Your brother is very skilled then," Adrienne emerged from the back room.

"Thank you," Ulfberth nodded in agreement, while receiving the paid septims.

"No thank you," Camila headed for the door. "I'll pass along the word to my brother the next time I see him."

The two of them watched the girl go wordlessly. Either knew her name but even while dressed in tattered clothes, she carried herself with such grace. Not the girl-next-door natural gracefulness, but manners that have been taught strictly from a young age.

"Why can't you act like that?" Ulfberth sighed.

Adrienne elbowed her husband in the rib before walking back to the forge.

* * *

When Camila returned back to Jorrvaskr after visiting Warmaiden's, many of the Companions were up and about. Camila walked back into her room to get changed.

This morning hadn't been too bad. Vilkas didn't hate her after all, learning that made her feel better about this whole ordeal. Her identity was exposed though. This probably meant that Lord Marquardt would be able to locate her easier, though she doubt that he'd find her very soon.

After getting into her armor, she walks out and sees Farkas leaning against a wall.

"Are you ready for your first job?" he asked.

"Yes!" Camila nodded enthusiastically. "What is there for me to do?"

"Well there's a group of bandits that have taken over a nearby cave," Farkas said, handing her a scroll. "Here's a map to the cave, it's not too far from the city."

"Right…" Camila took the scroll. "I am to be going alone?"

"Yes," Farkas nodded. "But if you insist I can come with you."

"No, there's no need," Camila shook her head. "I was just curious. Well, I'll be off then."

"Good luck," Farkas called after her. "And try not to get killed on your first job."

"That's very encouraging," she chuckled back, shaking her head.

Yes, very encouraging indeed.

Camila rolled her eyes and reached to readjust the hilt of her sword. On her way to the door, she passed by Aelia and Vilkas. Aelia eyed her warily while Vilkas gave her a propitious nod. Camila smiled back meekly at the two and went her way.

"There's something about that girl," Aelia noted after Camila left. "Where did she say she's from again?"

"High Rock," Vilkas replied. "Evermore."

"And she was a noble there?" Aelia asked.

"Yes."

"Let's hope we didn't just send our first nobility to her death," Aelia sighed.

"You shouldn't underestimate her," Vilkas retorted. "She's not as helpless as she looks."

"For the Companions' sake, lets hope you're right," Aelia crossed her arms. "We don't need some Breton nobles coming after us."

"I have a feeling they'll be coming anyway," Kodlak appeared before them.

"And we're just supposed to wait for them to come?" Aelia asked, her eyes gleaming.

"Camila's one of us now," Kodlak shot her a stern look. "So yes, we will stand by her."

* * *

It didn't take long to finish them off. There were a total of five bandits holed up in the cramped cave, which was rather convenient as there was no need for Camila to seek them out. The last bandit had begged her to spare him, she had considered it for a moment but when she hesitated he tried to ram a dagger into her throat. With quick reflexes, she managed to freeze his arm solid and watched him hiss at the coolness. Camila walked over and picked up the discarded dagger that gleamed under the crackling fire of the torch.

"Please," he looked her in the eye, grasping onto his frozen arm.

"You know… if you had waited for a couple of seconds more, you could be walking out of this cave right now, alive and unharmed," she toyed with the dagger in her hand.

"I'm sorry! Please don't kill me! I was afraid! I didn't know what you-."

It all happened so fast. One second the bandit was still speaking and eyeing her with desperate eyes, and the next second there was an arrow in his left eye. Camila flinched as she watched the man fall on his knees and collapse on ground. With the dagger still in her hand, she looked around cautiously for where the arrow came from. She cast a quick ward spell around herself. Archers can be quite problematic when concealed and have a good aim at you.

"Show yourself, coward."

Camila accessed where the arrow was lodged in the body and tried to calculate where it came from. She looked up and searched the shadows of cave and eventually she found a clear figure huddling on a small platform.

"I see you," she glared. "Arrows don't do much if you know where they come form. You might as well come down."

Surprisingly the figure obliged and hopped down from the platform. He landed with sturdy footing and pulled his cowl off. Human. Imperial? Nord? He had a handsome face of a young man, perhaps only a few years older than Camila, and looked to be a very keen marksman by the look of his ebony bow.

"Why'd you kill him?" Camila demanded. "Wasn't he one of your own?"

"He was new blood, joined us just a few days ago" he shrugged. "He was pathetically annoying, even in his last moments."

"What made you think I was going to kill him?" she asked defensively.

"Your eyes."

"Excuse me?"

"They're very beautiful," he smirked.

"You didn't answer my question," she glared at him, remembering what happened the last time she let her guard down.

"Your grip on the dagger grew tighter," he shrugged and began pacing. "I got good eyes, you can't lie to me. You were about to kill him."

"Fine, so maybe I was," she eyed him cautiously as he walked.

"Well I don't blame you," he waved an arm. "I mean if someone came after my throat with a knife, I'd want to kill him too."

"… I don't understand," she finally said.

"Well it's simple really," he mocked. "When a person's life is in danger, they tend to grow more anx-."

"No not that," she shook her head. "Shouldn't you be trying to kill me?"

"Yes."

"But you're not… why?"

"Would you prefer it if I did?" he asked, reaching for his bow.

"No," she shook her head. "But I've been asked to clear this cave out, so you'll have to leave."

"And go where?" a playful smile appeared on his lips. "First you kill my men and then ask me to leave my cave… I'm having a hard time getting my head around the thought."

"It's not your cave," she retorted. "And if you weren't causing problems, I'm sure we wouldn't have been asked to get rid of you."

"The cave was empty when I got here, therefore I claimed it as my own," he took a step closer to her. "And we just robbed a few travellers, no harm done. I wouldn't even have call ourselves bandits."

"And what would you have called yourselves?" she took a step back.

"Opportunists," he continued stepping forward.

"That sounds like trash," she fumbled onto the back of the wall.

"Pretty girls shouldn't speak trash."

Camila pointed at him defensively but he just chuckled.

"I don't think I can kill you after speaking to you," he placed his bow away.

"How can I be sure?" she kept the blade where it was. "You easily killed your own man."

"Point taken," he grinned. "Would it help if I gave you my bow?"

"No."

Camila stood her ground as he walked closer until he was right in front of her. She half expected him to pull out a hidden dagger from somewhere but he just looked down at her and smiled.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"What's yours?"

"Devon."

"Where are you from?" she looked up at him warily.

"Cyrodiil."

So this Devon was an Imperial, from the capital too.

"I'm Camila."

"And you're from High Rock, he crossed his arms.

"How did you know?"

"Good guess, I can tell you're Breton from your accent," he shrugged. "… So are you just going to stand there glaring at me for the whole day?"

"I haven't decided yet," she narrowed her eyes at him. "What about you?"

"Well if you let me live, I'd be in your debt," he proposed.

"What? As in you'll work in my service?" she asked.

"I'd be happy to work for such a beautiful young lady," he tilted his head into a light nod. "Do we have an agreement?"

Camila mouth went dry. Having this man around could benefit her greatly, not only is he an excellent marksman but he was a smooth talker. Someone that can easily talk their way out of tough spots, like he had just displayed. But she didn't need him here, High Rock had more priority than Skyrim.

"It's a deal," she lowered her dagger. "But I need you to travel to Wayrest."

"What? Am I not to stay here with you?" he asked.

"No, there is… someone after me," she explained. "I need you to track his movements. And if possible try to lead him away from Skyrim."

"Who is he?" Devon asked keenly. "Husband? Father? Evil political figure?"

"Fiancé," she sighed. "Lord Marquardt of Wayrest."

"So I'm to confront this lord?" he folded his arms again.

"No, just keep him away from Skyrim," she shook her head. "You're light on your feet, I can tell by the way you landed earlier. It shouldn't be a problem for you to intercept messages and go undercover when you have to."

"You ask for a lot," he chuckled.

"You're in my debt," she reminded him with a shrug. "I'm plan to stay in Whiterun, if you have any news send it a courier to Jorrvaskr addressed to Camila Hearthfield."

"Anything else, my sweet lady?" he smiled at her directness.

"Yes," she nodded, shooting him a stern look. "One, don't call me that. Two, stop by Evermore, I have a message that needs to be delivered to my brother."

"Can you not send a courier?" he followed her out of the cave.

"Mail can be tracked easily in High Rock, I can't risk having my location found out by Marquardt."

"Understood."

"Good, come then."

* * *

Vilkas eyed the door expectantly. She has been gone for a few long hours. Perhaps Aelia was right; maybe she wasn't ready for it for a job. Just as he was about to stand up to go look for her, she walks in. Her cheeks flushed, and hair in a mess. Then walked in a man after her, probably the reason for her being flustered.

"That's disgusting," she scowled at him. "Does your mother know about your foul mouth?"

"My mother's dead darlin'," he chuckled. "I'm sure she has other more pressing things to worry about in the afterlife."

Vilkas looked at the man distastefully as he followed Camila to the table. She greeted him a small smile and pulled out a roll of parchment from her bag. Camila began writing right away after setting up the inkwell and feather. The man loitered about behind Camila, picking up a small trinket from an end table to examine.

"Who's your friend?" Vilkas finally asked.

"Trust me, you don't want to know," she sighed, continuing to write.

"I'm Devon," a hand intruded into the proximity.

Vilkas looked up and saw him smirking at him. He didn't like the look of him at all. Or the way he spoke to Camila.

"A friend of Camila's," he added quickly when Vilkas didn't reply.

"Vilkas," the Nord grunted back, squeezing the younger man's hand.

"Nice to meet you," Devon nodded back. "Are you done yet, Camila my sweet?"

"Quiet," she hissed, elbowing him away from the table. "Go make yourself useful and man the door."

"What like open the door for people?" Devon eyebrows knitted together.

"Go."

Devon left with a roll of his eyes and stood by the door. Vilkas watched their exchange in silence but almost laughed at her remark.

"What are you writing?" he queried.

"Letter to my brother," she crossed out a line furiously.

"And you're going to have that rat deliver it?"

"I can hear you!" Devon called accusingly.

"Be quiet! Do you want me to send you outside?" she called over her shoulder, and then she turned back around. "Yes, I can trust him."

"How do you two know each other?"

"I saved him from the bandits," she lied with a shrug, rolling the parchment up. "He swore his life to me."

Camila stood up and walked to the doors. She handed Devon the scroll and looked him in the eye then muttered a few quiet words. Devon just laughed and nodded, attempting to reassure her.

"I mean it! No peeking!" she whacked him lightly. "Now go! Don't come back until you've got some good news."

"Of coarse, my darling Camila," he grinned, pushing the door open. "Expect a letter from me in a couple of weeks."

"Thank you," she called after him.

She turned back into the room and walked right into Vilkas' chest. He watched Devon go warily and glanced back down at her.

"Are you sure this is wise?" he asked, looking back at the small figure huddling down the stairs.

"I can trust him," she lied through her teeth.

It wasn't that she didn't trust Devon, but it's just not absolute. His methods were questionable, but the desperate can't be choosers. Plus he seemed to like Camila enough to not betray her. By asking him to stop by Evermore first, Devon would be compensated for his service. Camila didn't feel comfortable with having a man under her with no pay. Faric may even hire him to work for the Hearthfield house.

"Where's that brother of yours?" she looked up at Vilkas. "I need to get my pay."

"He's out in the courtyard," Vilkas directed her.

"Thank you," she nodded with a smile.

Vilkas walked back in and leaned on the rails, things have just gotten from strange to stranger. He looked down at the desks below him and frowned. The small vase Devon was eyeing earlier was gone. So not only was a sly, rude-mouthed bastard, but he was a thief too. Brilliant.

* * *

**Please do review!**


End file.
